Thank You
by Pegasus M
Summary: Ellie is a servant in the Richardson home. In one night, bonds are formed, enemies are made and there is no turning back to the life she once knew.
1. The Ordinary

_**Title:**__ Thank You (tentative title)  
__**Author:**__ Pegasus  
__**Rating: **__T  
__**Summary:**_Ellie Vivien is a servant in the Richardson home. In one night, bonds are formed, enemies are made and there is no turning back to the life she once knew.  
_**Disclaimer:**__ I do not own the movie _Newsies, _or any of the characters from it.__**  
**_

**- - - - - -**

_An ordinary life  
__Leaves much to be desired._

**Chapter One  
****The Ordinary**

The Richardson's home sat comfortably in the middle of a quiet neighborhood in Queens, New York. The homes were impeccable, pristine - a reflection of the neighborhood's clean and safe reputation. This was the type of place where everyone would know each other's names, smile and wave at each other in greeting. This was where idealism ruled, where the wealthy resided: Ivy Street. But the impressive houses were not as peaceful as they appeared. They were blinds obstructing the truths of the people within. At least, that was the case with the Richardson's.

"Felise, darling! Get down!"

The young lady stood in the middle of the backyard, raising her arms heavenward. She tiptoed, stretching her body, her brown curls bouncing with every frantic movement. And suddenly, a change in disposition.

"Felise! If you don't come down this instant!" she yelled in a high-pitched whine, her face turning red with impatience.

From inside the Richardson's kitchen, which overlooked the backyard, Ellie Vivien expounded her frustration with a vengeance, hacking at an innocent carrot on the cutting board. One would have thought that the carrot had backstabbed her. But the orange vegetable wasn't the offender. The problem was Francesca Richardson, who had been squealing from the backyard for at least half an hour. Ellie walloped off the end of the carrot, placed the knife in the sink and thrust open the window.

The breeze caught the black wavy hair that framed her oval face. Her well defined brows were furrowed in annoyance.

"Still can't get your cat down?" she asked mundanely, poking her head out the window. Her almond-shaped eyes questioned as she glanced upwards towards the roof.

Francesca glared at her. "Get back to work, _Smelly_ Vivien," she snapped.

"Smelly Viv - ?" _Fine then_. Ellie shook her head and closed the window. Then she heard Francesca's squealing again, and decided that she would actually have to help the spoiled brat to stop the pounding in her own head. She opened the back door and stepped onto the backyard porch. Shielding her eyes against the summer sun, she measured the two story house. She stretched her body upwards before lifting herself onto the railing. Elllie placed her right foot on a jutting brick and grabbed onto the scattered protruding bricks above her, lifting and climbing up the house wall. When she reached the roof, Ellie eyed the cat, which was staring back at her curiously.

"Come on, you damn cat," she muttered. "I know you don't want to go back down to that owner of yours," she said as she scooped the cat into her left arm. "But I'll give you extra dinner if you cooperate."

Carefully and skillfully, Ellie stepped back onto the level ground. Francesca stomped towards her and grabbed Felise from her arms. Without a word, she proceeded back into the house.

"You're welcome!" Ellie said cheerily as the door slammed. Her smile faded instantly with a sigh.

They were the quintessential dysfunctional family, if there ever were one. Mr. Richardson was a politician. He had a _bit_ of a drinking problem (which was a _bit_ of an understatement). He had a tendency to throw things after drinking too much; Ellie still had a scar on her left shoulder from the glass pitcher he had thrown at her when she had asked him if he wanted more mashed potatoes on his dinner plate. Mrs. Richardson was cold and stiff, and only concerned herself with her appearance. She never cared about anyone but herself and was ruthless when crossed. Francesca Richardson, the pretty daughter, was as vain and selfish as her mother. Ellie and Francesca were the same age, and there had been too many fights – verbal and physical - between them to count.

This was the truth under their disguise as prestigious members of Ivy Street. To their neighbors, Mr. Richardson was just a jolly fellow with a feisty temper. Mrs. Richardson was an orderly, prim-and-proper woman. And Francesca… well, Miss Francesca Richardson was the belle of the whole damn neighborhood.

Though the family had given her plenty of headaches and nightmares, she was grateful for one thing: The Richardsons had allowed Francesca's Nanny to take Ellie in, after finding the three year old child shivering outside the house one night. How she had gotten there that night, no one knew. And if the family did know, it was kept a secret from Ellie. She resided in the Richardson's servants' quarters and worked for them for the following thirteen years. And for thirteen years, Ellie tried to fit into her role as the subservient housemaid (after all, in return, she had a roof over her head, food in her stomach and money in her pocket). But it always seemed to backfire for some reason. Like that one night three months ago, when Mr. Richardson invited a fellow politics man, wealthy Mr. Daniel Mason, to the house for dinner.

Ellie had been pouring more water into Daniel Mason's glass, when the corpulent man suddenly gurgled with laughter.

"These potatoes are excellent, Mrs. Richardson. My compliments to your skilled chef," Mason gushed. He closed his eyes as he slowly chewed, emphasizing his fondness for the baked potatoes. Ellie thought he looked like a cow.

"Ah, Miss Francesca," he said, directing his attention across the table where she sat. He tore a piece of chicken and stuffed it into his mouth. "You certainly become lovelier every time I see you!" His chewing made a disturbing _plop! plop!_ sound as he spoke. Grease dribbled over his lower lip. He looked at Francesca over his glasses and wriggled his eyebrows, as though he were trying to give her some sort of hint.

Francesca giggled. Mr. and Mrs. Richardson smiled.

Ellie wrinkled her nose as she watched the interplay between Francesca and the old man. "_Eugh._"

The clanging of forks and scraping of knives against plates came to a stop. All eyes were on Ellie.

She noticed the sudden silence and had to keep herself from clasping her hand over her big mouth. "Uh… _eugh-oh_! Agnes, I'll be right there!" she had excused herself awkwardly. She had bowed and had scurried into the kitchen.

Ellie dropped the carrots into the stew, sighing as she recalled that particular occasion. Apparently, Mr. Mason had been looking to court Francesca and upon hearing that bit, Ellie had wrinkled her nose again. She had gotten into a lot of trouble that night. Ellie picked up the stack of plates and headed towards the dining room. Francesca was already sitting at the table, admiring her own reflection from her powder case.

"You're late with dinner," she said.

Agnes, the Richardson's cook, had fallen ill and had been in bed for almost a week; Ellie had taken up her chores in addition to her own.

Ellie bit back her lip from retorting - to argue with Francesca was like opening fire on a never-ending battle.

She had been setting the table when the doorbell rang.

"Go get the door," Francesca barked, closing her powder case with a snap. "It's probably father's guests."

Ellie eyed her before setting the last plate down. Francesca was becoming more unbearable by the day. Ellie wiped her hands on her apron as she briskly walked towards the door. Upon opening it, she was surprised to see a complete stranger.

The young man looked shock to see her; he quickly ran his hand through his sandy brown hair.

"Care to donate to the Newsies Strike Fund, Miss?"

She raised her eyebrow in question. "Since when were the Newsboys going on strike?"

"Since today, Miss," he answered politely.

"Ellie Vivien!" came a command from inside the house. "Why is the table not set for dinner?" It was the voice of Mrs. Richardson.

"Coming, ma'am," Ellie called back. She turned to the young man and searched inside her apron pockets. She handed him twenty cents. "It's all I can afford," she said apologetically.

He was clearly surprised, looking down at the coins she just handed him. He looked back at her and beamed. "Thank you, Miss."

"Good luck." She smiled, and closed the door.

The young man exhaled slowly and slowly a smile formed on his handsome face. _Ellie Vivien, was it?_ He turned and jumped off the front steps. Two figures appeared from behind the side bushes.

"What'd I tell ya?" he asked his two friends, triumphant.

"You got lucky!" David exclaimed. "No one else in this neighborhood donated," he said, pouting slightly.

"_And_ you got a pretty girl!" added Boots. "All we got was a pair o' hoity toity grannies slammin' the door in our faces."

The three newsboys had traveled to Brooklyn that day to spread the word that the Manhattan newsies were planning to go on strike against Joseph Pulitzer. Pulitzer owned _The World_, a major New York newspaper, and he had raised the newspaper prices upon newsboys who were already struggling for money. On their way back to Manhattan, the trio made a detour into the flowery Queens neighborhood, betting over who would be able to collect the most money for their cause.

"So how'd you do it?" David asked.

Jack Kelly raised the coins for David and Boots to examine.

"It's called charm, fellas," Jack said with a grin.

Boots looked up to Jack in awe. Davey looked at him skeptically, but let him have his moment of victory.


	2. The Confrontation

_**Author's Notes:**__ Edited some parts of the first chapter. I may be uploading the third chapter tonight as well, because I realize I'm not bringing in any of the wonderful newsies fast enough. I promise they are definitely in the third chapter! There may be some errors here and there in this chapter (or maybe everywhere). I will be correcting them when I edit and search them out, those buggers. And there is some foul-mouthing in this chapter, be warned! Thank you and any sort of review would be greatly appreciated!_

_**Disclaimer:**__ I do not own the movie _Newsies, _or any of the characters from it. _Disney_ laid claim to them before I had the chance. I still love you, Disney._

- - - - - -

**Chapter Two  
****The Confrontation**

After thirteen years, it would be safe to assume to have someone figured out, but then they go out of their way to surprise you.

It was a chilly autumn night and Ellie was just finishing washing the dishes. The family had already gone to bed and she was the only one still awake and bustling about in the house.

_Thump._

Or so she thought.

Ellie turned towards the window facing the backyard. Darkness. A black silhouette slowly formed. With an expression of consternation, Ellie ambled towards the window to take a closer look. She heard a slight groan as the figure shuffled away. As her eyes focused on the darkness, she saw a limp object floating with the wind. A rope? She looked closer, and after a moment began to laugh. They were bed sheets tied to each other to form a rope. And they came from Francesca's window.

"Well, didn't know she had it in her," Ellie said to herself, almost approvingly. She turned away to leave the kitchen, but quickly spun back to the window. "Where the hell is she going at this time of night?" she whispered in sudden shock. Ellie had a sinking feeling that trouble was brewing; Francesca was not too bright. She frowned and took a step back.

"Well, it's not my problem…" Ellie muttered, and spun around once again to leave the kitchen. Her hand reached up to switch the light off, but she paused.

"I hate myself," she sighed. Ellie grabbed her shawl and ran out the backdoor.

- - - - - -

Ellie wrapped her arms around her body, pulling the gray shawl tighter. She saw Francesca just ahead of her, practically running.

_Since when did I become her bodyguard_, Ellie thought with irritation.

Francesca came to an abrupt stop, looking to her left and right. The full moon illuminated her face; she was looking for something, Ellie realized. _What could she possibly be looking for?_ Ellie looked around as well. They had wandered far from their neighborhood, into a narrow street lined with crumbling tenements. Several times she thought she had seen a pair of eyes from the windows following her as she walked past. Francesca had headed towards the park.

Ellie looked ahead again, searching for Francesca. She suddenly stopped in mid-motion and flattened herself against the building wall, eyes wide with shock.

Francesca was not alone; she was in the arms of a young man. But Ellie's shock came from the fact that he was obviously from a lower class than Francesca – or else she would not have snuck out of the house to meet him. Francesca, who all these years had been fiercely eyeing the wealthy bachelors of New York City, was meeting someone in an impoverished section of Queens. Ellie could not believe it. Perhaps it wasn't real. She poked her head towards the couple and pulled herself back in again.

Nope, it wasn't her imagination. They were still there.

Ellie wanted to leave; she knew she was intruding on a private moment. Not to mention she was disappointed to know that Francesca actually had the capacity for human feelings. Ellie would have much preferred to continue regarding her as an obnoxious sub-species_. Like one of those insects that would keep buzzing around your head_, she thought warily. But she could not leave the oblivious girl to go home alone. She shook her head remembering Francesca's lack of grace in sneaking out of the house and how she had ran with no sense of caution to the dangers of the night. Ellie slid down to the floor, hidden behind a barrel, crouching with her knees to her chest. She rested her head on her hand, obviously annoyed with herself for assuming responsibility for the brat.

There was a distant rumbing. Ellie lifted her head, alert. She poked her head from behind the barrel and frowned.

Francesca was encircled by a group of malicious-looking individuals. Meanwhile, someone was confronting the young man Francesca had been with.

"Ya got a lot of nerve to go behind my back," the confronter said. It was apparent now that the person was a female and that she was the leader of the group.

"Ya got a lot of nerve to think that you own me," the man spat back. His eyes shifted towards Francesca. "This is about me and you, isn't it? Leave her out of this."

She laughed coldly. "Leave her out of this? She's the reason why we're here."

She walked up to him and pulled something out from behind her. "I'm going to show you why people don't betray me," she said. The object glinted in the moonlight.

_A knife_, Ellie realized. _Wonderful, _she thought weakly as her heart began to skip.

The leader walked past the man and towards Francesca.

"Filthy whore," she said murderously. "You left me for trash like this?" She turned to the man in mock disbelief.

"I love him," Francesca cried. "You only tried to manipulate him, but I love him!" Her voice shook, from both fear and the cold.

Ellie almost coughed. A look of confusion and disbelief crossed her face. She refused to believe that all the culminated tension was because of such a simple thing as love. She was vaguely aware of her racing heart; it seemed that her mind had decided what needed to be done before her body could prepare itself. Francesca was going to get herself killed. Ellie stood up, dusted her skirt and strode purposefully towards the group.

"Time to go," Ellie said. She broke through the crowd of surprised girls. "Come on," she said to Francesca. Did Ellie just see a flicker of relief in her eyes?

"Who the hell are you?" the leader snarled.

"This idiot's bodyguard, apparently," Ellie mumbled. She did not bother to stop and look at her, seemingly unthreatened by the girl with the knife in her hands.

In one swift motion, the leader held the knife right under Ellie's jaw.

"You betta mind your own business," she warned. Her expression changed from vicious to uncertainty; she must've been taken aback by Ellie's smile.

"You must really like him to go through all this trouble," Ellie said softly so that only the leader could hear. She grabbed Francesca's arm and pulled her out of the circle.

The young man raced to Francesca's side. He was supporting Francesca, who was trying to recover from being held at knifepoint. The three turned their backs on the group and walked away, towards the narrow street.

Ellie looked back when she heard a rush of footsteps. The group was rapidly coming towards them. The leader must have given the command. And this time, they all held weapons.

Ellie pushed the couple forward. "Run," she said as she glanced back again. They were not far behind. "Now!"

The three raced through the streets, their steps reverberating through the air. In their frantic states, they took a wrong turn and got themselves lost, coming to a dead end.

Francesca was panting. "What are we going to do?" she whispered fearfully.

"You two stay here," Ellie ordered.

She dashed out of the dead end street, stopping right in the middle where the two streets crossed.

The girls spotted her. Ellie ran up the street and made a left. She skidded to a stop.

The leader stood directly in front of her, gripping the knife in her hand. Without a moment's hesitation, she raised her body and slashed down on Ellie's left upper arm. Ellie only gasped in surprise, grabbing her arm as the cold air stung the open skin. Her pride erupted and she was furious with herself for being caught off guard.

The gang surrounded her; she was trapped. Ellie glanced around her, trying to look for a way out.

They were cramped within an alleyway, surrounded on both sides by building walls. But in the far distance ahead of her, behind the leader, Ellie saw her opening: a high fence.

"You're goin' to pay for ruinin' my night," the girl snarled.

Ellie's eyes snapped back to the leader. "_I_ ruined _your_ night?" she said incredulously. "Are you kidding?"

But the leader only raised her arm with her knife again, only this time Ellie swiftly ducked under her and sprinted towards the fence. Her left arm was stinging; her shirt was stained with blood.

Years of carrying troves of chests up and down the stairs, of scaling the walls to retrieve the damn cat, of climbing trees to escape the world, all came into fruition as Ellie flew up the barbed fence and, upon reaching the top, leapt to the ground on the other side. She knew she hadn't escaped them yet and continued running. She had to slow down as she ripped a layer of cloth from her skirt and deftly wrapped it tightly around her wounded arm. She wheeled around a corner and crashed into a gigantic form, falling backwards.

"Who put this damn horse, I'll…" A horse. Of course. She was saved.

She had never been on a horse before, but adrenaline pulled her atop the black stallion. The horse must've sensed the desperation of her situation because he quickly broke into a gallop. Ellie had not expected the quick pace; she lost her balance and flailed her arms wildly with a series of _whoa_, _wait!_ and _ah!_'s before leaning forward and grabbing onto the horse's muscular neck. She closed her eyes and let the stallion steal her away.

- - - - - -

"What is _that_?"

One of the children pointed to the distance. He was lying in the arms of the Horace Greeley Statue. A second child lifted his head, awakened by the thundering sounds. A shadowy form was approaching fast.

"It's a horse, dummy," he said. He closed his eyes to sleep, when the same kid shouted again.

"_Yeah_, but it be sproutin' wings. Look!"

They looked again. Sure enough, the horse had a pair of beating wings. It slowed its pace and eventually stopped right in front of the police station across from them. The boys, alert and curious now, cautiously walked towards the stallion.

The lady was clinging to the horse's neck, her body rigid, her eyes shut tight. Her pale face was framed with long, wavy tresses. The boys couldn't see her face clearly, though; it was half buried in the horse's mane. They realized that the wings they had seen were just the lady's skirt fluttering in the wind.

"Miss…?"

Ellie's eyes flew open. When her vision cleared, she saw two puzzled faces peering back at her. She slowly realized that she was still alive, that she hadn't fallen off the horse.

"Oh. Well. That wasn't too bad," she mumbled to herself, still in shock, as she slowly sat up. Her body was stiff, and it took her several minutes to get onto the ground. She caught a glimpse of the horse's saddle where the letters "NYMP" were etched on. New York Mounted Police. For a moment, she thought she had stolen a police horse. Ellie looked up and was momentarily frozen. _Well, well_, she thought in wonder. _What absolute luck_. She sighed in relief - the horse had stopped directly in front of the police station. Heck, this one horse was smarter than any person she'd ever known.

Ellie tilted her head and studied the magnificent stallion with a thoughtful smile. "I'm sure lucky to have bumped into a clever one like you," she said to the stallion, patting its great head. "Thank you." The horse made a blowing sound through his nose in return. "I'll take that as a 'you're welcome.'"

The moment she turned around and looked at the children, they bombarded her with questions. They each grabbed her hand and practically pulled her to the statue, where she plopped down onto the hard, cold ground and tugged at her shawl as a feeble attempt to shield her body from the cold stone of the statue base. She exhaled a heavy sigh and her eyes closed against her will.

"Why are you bleeding?"

"Did you get into a fight?"

"Are you one of the bulls?"

"Shaddup, she's too pretty to be a bull."

"Oh yeah."

"What's yer name?"

"Are you from 'round these parts?"

Ellie forced one eye open slightly. "Where are we, by the way?"

"We're in Manhattan of New York of the United States, Miss," the boy answered.


	3. A Simple Thanks

_**Author's Notes:**__ This chapter is a bit long. Not super long, but a bit. I want to thank __**Emba**__ and __**Stress**__ for being nice enough to read through this mess and even leave feedback. There are newsies in here! Yay!_

_**Disclaimer:**__ I do not own the movie _Newsies, _or any of the characters from it. _Disney_ laid claim to them before I had the chance. I still love ya, Disney._

- - - - - -

**Chapter Three  
****A Simple Thanks**

The sun's beams poked and prodded through the spaces between the buildings, bounced off a shop window and landed squarely between Ellie's eyes. She scrunched her face, turning her head to the side, and tried to swat the light away with her hand.

"We've figured it all out."

Ellie tilted her head up from her slouched position on the ground. A pair of green eyes stared directly at her. The child had a head full of thick blonde hair that stood on its ends as he peeped down from the base of the statue. He grinned at her. Another head popped into view right next to him.

"Yeah!" he chimed. He had a newsboy cap on (one that was obviously too big for him), covering the top of his dark brown hair that curled slightly at the ends.

Ellie had no idea what they figured out, or who these kids even were for that matter. But a combination of her own exhaustion and the hopeful looks on their faces made her play along.

"What've you figured out?" she asked with a lazy smile, her voice still thick with sleep.

"You're seeking refuge in Manhattan after fighting an epic battle against a gang of bad guys and their big monster sidekicks," Green Eyes began.

"We know because you're too pretty to be a bull," explained Brown Curls. "And because of the battle wound," he said, pointing to her arm.

"And we know it was a big fight because you were unconscious by the time you got here!"

"And the best part," Brown Curls said standing up, "is that you came all da way from Santa Fe!" He emphasized this detail by pointing due west.

She had to laugh. They were so animated and energetic. And completely random. "Why Santa Fe?"

"Cowboy told us that in Santa Fe, heroes always fight bad guys and ride off into the sunset on their trusty horses," green eyes explained.

_A cowboy? What on earth were they talking about?_ Ellie thought with mirth. "So, I'm a hero from Santa Fe?"

"Yeah!" the two said excitedly.

"And, and, and! They call you… Princess Pony the Magnificent!" Green Eyes exclaimed.

"Princess Pony." Ellie's shoulders visibly slumped. She was hoping for a more glorified name.

Brown Curls removed his cap and smacked Green Eyes over his head.

"Ow!"

"That's not it!" Brown Curls said. His chest puffed up with dramatic tension. "And they call you… Pegasus, the crime-fighting, gang-busting Lady of the West!"

"Oh yeah!" Green Eyes drawled in remembrance, still rubbing the back of his head where Brown Curls had hit him.

Ellie laughed as she slowly stood up. "What're you kids, fiction writers?"

"We're newsies."

"Ah." Well, that explained the wild imagination.

- - - - - -

"You two almost make me miss the Delancey brudders," Race said, shaking his head at the pair of meek young men behind the desk of the Distribution Center. "Hey Jack," he called. Jack had already sat down on the platform and was flipping through the paper.

"Yeah," he answered, not looking up.

"What're we gonna do about our morning entertainment?" Race asked loudly.

"What do I look like, the circus?"

Race ignored his last comment. He picked up his papers and stooped down on the platform, sitting himself right next to Jack. His dark brows furrowed as he browsed the headlines. "Lousy mornings, lousy headlines…" he muttered.

"Headlines don't sell papes. Newsies sell papes," David piped. He looked to Skittery, who was coming down the steps after buying his papers. "Right, Skittery?"

Skittery plopped down on the lower steps and muttered a "yeah, sure," before thrusting open the newspaper and skimming the articles.

"Hey, Sunshine. What's with the long face?" Jack asked Skittery with a teasing grin.

"Nothin'."

"I coulda sworn he woke up with a smile on his face," Kid Blink said, nudging Skittery playfully. Standing beside Blink was Mush, who laughed as he remembered the glazed, far away look of content Skitts had had in the morning.

"I was having a good dream," he rejoined.

"Yeah?" said Jack.

"Yeah."

"Then what happened?" Mush prodded.

"Then I woke up."

"Hey, look at this, guys," David interrupted. "This article says that the recent muggings are linked to some gang situated in Queens."

The newsies just stared at him.

"So what?" Jack questioned.

"So… couldn't we do something about it?"

"Why?" Skittery asked without looking up from the paper.

"Because… well, what if one of us were attacked by this gang?"

Jack stood up and patted David on the back. He knew David was in one of his seize-the-day-let's-make-the-world-a-better-place moods that he had adopted after the strike. "Dave. It ain't none of our business," he said. "And I sure as heck wouldn't be scared of no little girls." He walked over to Mush and gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze.

David frowned. "There isn't anything in the article about little girls." Just to be sure he began to read through the article again. "Wait, how do you know they're girls?"

Jack cocked his head to the side, looking at David as though the answer were obvious.

Bumlets, still waiting in line to buy his papers, explained. "We're out on the streets all day long, Dave. We eventually pick up things those reporters don't."

"Oh."

One by one, each of the newsboys bought their papers and settled as they flicked through the pages, searching for ways to twist the bland headlines.

"Forty papes, please!"

The newsboys by the platform looked up at the sound of the chirpy voice.

"Heya Clue! How've ya been?" Jack greeted the small child.

"Hiya Cowboy! Guess what? We met a real life hero from Santa Fe and she came riding on this big horse and she was all bloodied up because she was fightin' these mean bad guys and her name is Pony – no, not Pony, her name is Pegasus, the crime-fightin', gang-bustin' Lady of the West and she's going to be our selling partner but I don't think she's ever sold papes before, it doesn't matter, huh, Cowboy? She's real pretty at least I think so and me and Alec are going to show her how to sell papes and she even said she would buy us ice cream! Well, I've got to go, they're waiting for me to go back with the papers," Clue rattled, as he shrugged two piles of papers that seemed to be half his size.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Whoa," Race said, stopping Clue in mid-motion. "_What?_"

"Slow down, kid," Skittery added. "Who's this 'Lady of the West'?"

"_Pegasus_," Clue said, exasperated that none of the newsies understood what he had just explained.

"Are you kids just going to sit out there all day long?" asked Mr. Wilson, the paper distributor. He pored over his small glasses expectantly.

"Carryin' the banner!" Clue exclaimed and he bounded towards the open gates.

The newsies watched the enthusiastic young boy leave and chuckled softly. Even Skittery couldn't help but grin.

- - - - - -

Green Eyes or, as Ellie learned, Clue came running towards her and Alec (whom she had kept referring to as Brown Curls). He wavered from side to side, holding a large stack of newspapers under each arm. The duo led her down the busy streets of Manhattan, to their usual selling spot.

When Ellie had asked them why they were named as though they were Snow White's forgotten dwarves, she had gotten two wide-eyed and puzzled stares that clearly asked, "_Snow what's what?_" As they walked from the newspaper distribution center, Ellie briefly told them about the fairy tale.

"That's a girly story," Alec said, scrunching up his face.

"Did it end with a 'happily ever after'?" Clue asked earnestly.

"Yes, to the both of you," Ellie said. _How do the two of them get along?_ "Where did you get your names from?" she asked more clearly, straying from referencing any other unfamiliar fairy tales.

"Alec's name is short for 'Smart Alec' - Cowboy started calling him that," Clue said.

"And what about your name? Why's your name 'Clue'?" she asked.

Alec tugged at her skirt. Ellie bent down as Alec whispered, "Because he don't have none."

Ellie glanced at Clue, who only looked up at her with a toothy grin, his eyes gleaming with innocence. His smile tugged at her heart. He slept in the streets, in the arms of a cold statue – surely no replacement for the warm embrace of a parent – and was robbed of being spoiled with presents and sweets like other children with families. But he remained untainted by the cynical world.

She ruffled their hair playfully. "Where's this selling spot of yours?"

They stopped in front of a new coffeehouse which was brimming with customers.

"We just started selling here," Clue informed her. "The morning papes disappear in minutes!"

Ellie watched them from behind, sitting casually on the ledge of the red brick shop building. As the kids sold the newspapers, she finally had time to focus on her mess of a situation. She was frantically trying to figure out how to get back to Ivy Street. And how to explain her absence to Mr. and Mrs. Richardson. A worried expression crossed her face. She pursed her lips, knowing that her job with the Richardson's was in serious jeopardy. She wondered if Francesca was able to go home, and Ellie knew the blame would fall on her if the brat never made it back into the house. She thought back on the disaster of the night before when a stinging pain ran down her left arm. Grimacing for only a moment, she looked down at the blood-soaked cloth wrapped around her arm, which had been carefully concealed with her shawl. She needed to change the poor bandaging and to actually treat the wound. She concealed her arm with the shawl when the kids came to her with empty hands and pockets full of change. Sure enough, Alec and Clue sold all of their forty papers within the hour.

"What's next?" Ellie asked, her lips widening into a natural smile.

The boys looked at each other and nodded knowingly. "_Tibby's!_"

- - - - - -

Skittery removed his cap and brushed his brown hair out of his eyes. The day was not going as well as he would've liked it to, which he fully expected. He still held ten papers and he felt as though his stomach were shriveling up with hunger. He sighed with relief when someone finally came up to him for the morning paper. _It's about time_, Skittery thought wearily. He handed the man a paper and accepted the money. "Thank you, sir," he managed to say as the man hurried past. He pulled his cap over his head, lowering it over his eyes to shield against the bright autumn sun. Skittery walked past _Huyler's Ice Cream Parlor_ and despite himself, looked through the parlor window. Inside, people were chatting and enjoying ice cream sodas. He could afford one… if he were willing to give up two days worth of lunch. Slowly, he turned away from the window and shoved his way through the bustling crowd. He thought back on the dream he had had that morning. In it, he was inside _Huyler's_ and was about to dig into a huge bowl of ice cream sundae. His mouth was watering for the sweet treat; he felt like a kid again – carefree, innocent, full of life. And just as he was about to bring a spoonful of ice cream and syrup to his mouth, Kloppman's voice and Blink's snickering broke through his dream. The moment he opened his eyes that morning, he felt all the hardships of reality swoop in, pounding heavily in his chest.

Skittery was so preoccupied with his own thoughts that he didn't notice the suddenly empty street in front of him. Nor did he hear the clanging and clattering of the runaway carriage.

She did, though. Ellie watched the crazy man as he walked, rather nonchalantly, in front of the carriage's path as it rolled on the down-sloped street. Women screamed, men shouted warnings. The people were pressed against the buildings, trying to get out of harm's way. Ellie pushed through the huddled group and before she knew what she was doing, raced into the open street.

Skittery realized too late. He just saw the carriage rapidly tumbling towards him when a sudden force slammed hard into his body and knocked him off his feet.

He groaned._ Was that it? Am I dead?_

"_Are you insane_?" came a voice from directly above him.

Skittery's eyes snapped open. He found himself lying on his back and vaguely heard the carriage come to a crashing stop. His hat had flown off his head. After several moments, he focused on the weight on top of him and the pair of light brown eyes boring into his own.

Ellie sighed with relief when she saw that he was overcoming his shock. He looked incredibly confused. Maybe she shouldn't have asked him if he were insane – she knew if he answered "no," it really meant "yes." The more proper and immediate question was, "Are you all right?"

"Wh – yeah, I'm fine," he grumbled.

She scoffed. "You're clearly not fine. Physically, maybe. But mentally," she pointed at her head, "I don't think so."

"What're you talking about?"

"You were heading straight for that carriage!" Ellie exclaimed, not able to believe that a perfectly healthy looking young man could be so dense.

Skittery was not insane, contrary to what this girl was probably thinking. He was just having a bad day. "Look, I'm fine, all right? Maybe you should get off me," he snapped.

"Maybe you should let go of me first," she retorted.

He realized with surprise that his arms were wrapped around her waist. He quickly let go and she bounded to her feet. Skittery glanced at her as he stood up. He was taken aback to see that she was quite young – her voice had been like that of a reprimanding mother – perhaps around his age.

She bent down to pick up his hat. Her shawl slipped off her arm and he thought he saw her shirt stained in red, but she quickly covered her it up again before he could be sure. A wave of guilt overcame him. Had she gotten hurt because of him?

She extended her arm towards him with his cap. He cautiously took it. "Listen, you're arm…" he trailed off.

"What?"

He was caught off guard by her tone of annoyance. He knew he had something to do with her being upset. "You don't have to sound so angry," he defended.

She turned wide eyes on him. "Oh, but I am angry. I just saved a _crazy_ man from being _crushed_ to death," she gestured towards the shattered carriage at the end of the street, "and he doesn't even mention a simple thank you."

"Fine. Thanks," he said. She seemed to be appeased.

"You're very welcome."

He closed his eyes and shook his head resignedly. When he opened them again, she was gone.


	4. Girl, Interrupted

_**Author's Notes:**__ It's been quite a long time since this story has been updated. This chapter was written a while ago and I'm still not too sure about it. But since I've started writing the next chapter, I finally decided to post this. _

_**Disclaimer:**__ I do not own the movie _Newsies, _or any of the characters from it. _Disney_ laid claim to them before I had the chance. Several OCs appear in this chapter whom belong to their respective owners. _

_- - - - - -_

**Chapter Four  
****Girl, Interrupted**

"Wow!"

"See?"

"What?"

"You are a hero from Santa Fe! The crime-fighting, gang-busting Lady of the West saves the day once again!" Alec announced.

"Wow!" Clue repeated in awe.

Ellie smiled half-heartedly. She remained tight-lipped while they ducked and sidestepped their way through the bustling streets, refusing to think about her encounter with the ungrateful (and crazy and rude and grouchy) man.

"This," Alec proclaimed, "is where we have lunch."

"And dinner," added Clue.

"_Tibby's Restaurant_, huh?" Ellie read the storefront as they walked into the restaurant. Alec immediately asked for a ham sandwich, sliced diagonally.

_It's a bit… dull_, she thought, following the children to a booth table by the window. The restaurant was quiet with a few customers hunched in the shadows of the room. The occasional clink of utensils seemed more like a clatter in the silence. A waiter sat alone in the back, his right arm hanging limply over the back of the chair, his left hand's fingers tapping on the table as though he were waiting for something.

"We've never sold our papes so fast before. See?" Alec said.

"See what?"

"We're great partners!"

A waiter appeared with Alec's ham sandwich. He set the plate on their table along with two glasses of water. Alec and Clue each grabbed a slice of the sandwich and hungrily chomped into their lunch.

"Partners--? What, no, I just--" _How could she explain that she couldn't have just abandoned them? She had to tell them now that she had to go back to Queens._ "Alec, Clue. I have something to --" She was interrupted by the chiming of the bell above _Tibby's_ door. A raucous laughter poured in through the entrance, immediately followed by its source: a large group of newsboys. They hurdled inside in duos and trios, slapping each other on the back in friendly greeting. The waiter who had been lounging in the back sprung to his feet. He whistled and bobbed his head to his own tune as he headed towards the kitchen.

"Over here!" Alec waved to the group that had just entered. The newsboys all turned towards the child's voice. She groaned inwardly. _He seriously wasn't inviting _all_ those boys over... was he?_

"Hey Alec! What you got there, huh? A full meal?" laughed a boy donning a worn eye patch. He did a double take when he saw Ellie and quickly reached for his cap. He smiled and bowed his head slightly, embarrassed by his loud entrance in front of a lady. In fact, after tracing his line of vision, all the newsboys did the same; they took off their caps in unison and stared at her with a mixture of surprise and awe. You'd have thought the Queen of England waltzed in by the way they were gazing at her. While they're attention on her was unnerving, Ellie thought they were acting ridiculous. They looked dumbfounded – their eyes wide, their mouths hanging open. Ellie returned their wide-eyed stares, looking around unsurely.

"Yeah, sold all me papes today, Kid Blink! What took you guys so long?" Alec asked with a rascally grin.

"Getting' smart with me, Alec?" he questioned, his tone much softer than before. "You gonna introduce us to your friend?" he whispered, barely audible.

The head-bobbing waiter reappeared from the kitchen. He froze and his mouth visibly dropped when he saw how quiet the restaurant was. The moment was short-lived.

Clue spoke up. "Guys, this is the lady I was telling you about today - Pegasus."

The newsies exhaled a murmur of realization. After a beat, their faces lit up and they began to introduce themselves and ask questions. Through the clamor, Ellie managed to pick up "Santa Fe" and "Lady of the West." News certainly traveled fast.

They all gathered around the two children and Ellie, pulling seats to their table as they continued their introductions. She was sure the confusion appeared on her face – _Pie Eater? Bumlets? His name is, what… Snipeshooter?_ When she guaranteed them that she would not remember any of their names, they broke out in laughter. In the midst of all the chatter, the group did not hear the bell tinkering nor did they notice a second (smaller) group of people enter the restaurant.

"… I can't believe – thanks," said a tall, slender girl as the young man in front of her held the door open. "—I can't believe he actually bought that headline from you. 'Experts say _something went wrong_ in Colossal Train Crash'? What is that?"

He smirked. "It's what I like to call 'rousing curiosity,' _Stressie_."

"Actually, I called it 'rousing curiosity,'" David injected, following the pair.

"_Davey_ calls it 'rousing curiosity.' I call it a 'God-given talent,'" Jack said with a mischievous hint of laughter in his voice.

Stress punched him in the arm playfully, laughing. "Talent, _sure_."

David held the door for Mush, who walked in smiling at Jack and Stress' antics. He in turn, held the door for Race, who paused outside the entrance to take one last puff of his cigarette. He tossed the leftover stub over his shoulder.

"The hell, Race."

The cigarette had hit Skittery directly on the chest before limply dropping to the ground. His head fell to a slant as he glowered at Race.

Race spun around, surprised. "Hey, where'd you come from?" He put out the fallen cigarette with his shoe and strung his arm around Skittery's slumped shoulders. Race was all too familiar with Skittery's fickle moods. Right now, he practically stunk of grouchiness and Race was not going to be the one to set the bomb off. "Sorry 'bout that," he chuckled good-naturedly.

"Hey! You guys celebratin' something without us?" asked Jack. He slid his way to the center of the group. His brown eyes fell on Ellie. He frowned. _Where have I seen her before?_ "Uh…"

"Hey, Blink," said Mush, making his way towards his friend.

As Jack's eyes were on Ellie, her eyes fell upon Mush. _Where have I seen him before?_ "Um…"

"Afternoon, fellas! – oh. Afternoon, Miss," Race added, nodding his head in Ellie's direction. He guessed that she was one of the newsies' girl, so he tried to figure out who was the lucky newsboy. His arm was still around Skittery's shoulders in a futile attempt to contain the gloom emanating from his friend. Skittery though, upon hearing "Miss," managed to scavenge his manners and took off his cap. He glanced at the girl and his mouth fell open.

But Ellie did not notice. She stood up suddenly and concentrated on Mush, who attempted to smile politely. Then finally, "… Brat's friend?"

The next several moments were filled with confusion.

Mush froze. "Bodyguard?"

"_Girl_?"

"Crazy man?"

Jack snapped his fingers. "Ellie Vivien?"

"Yes?"

"_Pegasus_," Alec and Clue corrected.

"Who?"

"Wait - Newsies Strike Fund?"

"Yeah! Well, the name's Kel-"

"But… 'Lady of the West,' right? " Blink asked.

"Yeah!" said Clue.

"What?"

"Dutchy?"

Everyone turned towards Dutchy, who sheepishly grinned and shrugged. "Sorry."

"What the hell is goin' on here?" Race said, looking from one person to the next.

A bewildered silence hung in the air. Skittery was sure as hell not going to talk about his incident earlier. Jack was baffled as to how both Mush and Skittery seemed to know the same girl he had met months before. He stared at the two boys and waited for some sort of explanation, his arms crossed in front of his chest. He saw Skittery crossing his arms as well, but in a guarded manner; he apparently found his shoes very interesting. Stress, wide-eyed, looked around the group for any source of clarification for she, like the rest of the gathered newsies, was completely lost. Mush was the first one to break the cloud of befuddlement.

"I didn't get to introduce myself last night," he said, extending his hand with a friendly smile. "I'm Mush."

_More rejected dwarf names_, she thought. "Ellie," she introduced, accepting his hand. "And I know your name isn't 'Newsies Strike Fund," she said with an apologetic smile, turning to Jack.

He chuckled. "The name's Jack Kelly."

Clue, who had taken another bite of his sandwich, said with a stuffed mouth, "Datsh Cowboah. He dold ush oll 'bout Shanda bay."

"Don't talk with your mouth full, kid," said a grinning Jack.

Blink had immediately figured out the connection between Mush and Ellie. "So," he began, "you're the lovely lady who saved our pal here last night."

From the sighs of _oh's_ that filled the restaurant, everyone knew about the events that took place the night before. Everyone except David that is, who frowned even more from confusion.

The newsies knew Mush was madly in love ("Again?" Blink had asked incredulously). So much in love that he had trekked all the way to Queens to see his girl – his "Chess," he called her. They had been seeing each other secretly for weeks; when she went to social parties in Manhattan, she always managed to sneak out just to see him. None of the newsies had ever met her – the two lovebirds were too busy spending time with each other that Mush never remembered to introduce the fine miss to his friends. Mush had fallen hard for this one, they knew, and who could blame him? She was in a class of her own, a world apart from theirs. The type of lady for whom they could only respectfully remove their hats and, clutching it to their chest, watch her walk away. Mush, the newsies agreed, was a lucky man to have Chess.

But luck had not been on his side the previous night. Mush and Chess had been caught by the Queens gang, the same gang that was currently making headlines. The group was led by Blade, a girl Mush had met one summer night right before the newsboys strike. He thought she was sweet at first and ignored his friends' suspicions. Why is she always carrying a knife with her, they asked. It's just for protection, Mush had defended. Mush had treated Blade like no person had ever treated her before. She was in love, and he thought he loved her. That was until he (literally) fell flat on his face when he first laid his brown eyes on Chess. And Blade never forgave him for leaving her for "Miss High Society." She accused him of being a traitor to her and to the strike – "fighting" for a cause that he was planning to abandon.

For weeks, Blade had been trying to win Mush back. But when she pulled a knife on his Chess, Mush knew she had snapped.

If Ellie knew what the newsies thought about Francesca she would have choked on her drink. She glanced at Alec and Clue, then at the older newsboys.

"Well, I've got to get back," she said. Perfect timing - she'd been waiting to entrust the kids in someone else's hands. "It's been nice meeting all of you."

"Wait," said Race. He placed both hands on Ellie's shoulders and sat her back down. "You can't leave without tellin' us how you gave Blade and her gang the slip."

"Yeah!" said a clearly enthused five-year old boy named Fidget. "Tell us how you gave them the slip." His twin sister, Midget, placed her elbows on the table in interest.

"She was so great. She wasn't afraid of nothing. The way she talked back to her… it was like she didn't even know who Blade was," Mush praised.

"Ha, yeah…" Ellie laughed uncomfortably under the guise of a grateful smile. "It was… nothing," she managed, uneasy from the intent looks of anticipation she was receiving. "I just… ran," she said hesitantly, "really fast."

Blink looked at her skeptically. "There's gotta be more than that."

"No, that's about it--"

"She escaped on this huge, black police horse!" Alec said.

"Huge horsey?" asked Midget, her eyes widening into large green saucers.

"_Huge_ horsey," Alec confirmed with an expert nod.

"All the way from Queens?"

"A police horse?"

"I really should get go--"

She was cut off by Jack when he suddenly straightened his stance. His gaze was intent, and he stretched his neck to the right as he listened for the familiar sound. There it was again, he heard the call loud and clear this time - the distant ringing of the circulation bell, a sound Ellie was not accustomed to paying attention to.

"Damn," Jack muttered. "It's time for the afternoon rounds, boys."

"And girls," Stress reminded.

"And girls," Jack added. He turned to Ellie. "You're finishing your story later, right?" It was not actually meant to be a question. He and Stress zigzagged their way through the empty chairs and out of _Tibby's_.

The boys tipped their hats as they stood from their seats and the sound of chairs scraping the floor filled the restaurant. Ellie confusedly looked around as the crowd began to dissipate out the door of the restaurant.

"The afternoon edition of the papers," Alec explained.

"Ah."

"Time to sell the papes!" Clue announced, grabbing Ellie's hand and dragging her to the door.

"Wait. Wait," Ellie said, stopping. She had her own unresolved agenda to get to and she had to get going now. No longer was she going to keep delaying her own troubles just because these kids were on their own. Besides, they were always alone; they knew how to take care of themselves. Right? Right. Just turn away. Say goodbye and walk out that door.

But then Alec and Clue tilted their heads way back and gazed at her with those expectant, wide eyes. They looked so vulnerable. And after a couple of seconds, she thought, _well, maybe it could wait a little longer._ And Ellie realized, quite uneasily, that within the span of several hours these two young children had her in the palm of their hand. _How had she let that happen?_

She sighed. "Where are we going?"


	5. Home?

_**Author's Notes:**__ Chapter Five makes me nervous for several reasons, but here it is. Special thank you's to stress and kaitins for feedback on the last chapter! Happy Fourth of July, everyone!_

_**Disclaimer:**__ I do not own the movie _Newsies, _or any of the characters from it. _Disney_ laid claim to them before I had the chance. I still love ya, Disney._

- - - - - -

**Chapter Five  
****Home?**

She was exhausted.

No, more than exhausted. She was bordering collapse. Perhaps death, even. Her lungs were surely shriveled up. Her feet must have had several blisters. And blisters upon blisters. Her body cried for rest. Her stomach was begging for nutrition. Her mind was telling her stomach to shut up.

She had no idea what time it was. She only knew that it was way past sunset. Ellie had never been outdoors for so long in her life. Her place had always been inside the Richardson's home, being controlled by the Richardsons. She begrudgingly found herself in the same position, except it was these two children that had somehow attached her with strings. She had just finished accompanying the children with selling the evening papers and while the children were still bounding on their last remnants of energy, Ellie had drained her share long beforehand. It was now the second night away from the Richardsons home. She was surely fired by now. Jobless. Homeless. Tired. Hungry. She grimaced slightly at the sting on her arm. And still in pain.

"Home!... well, most of the time." Clue bounded towards a modest building. The Newsboys Lodging House. If this was home, then why were the boys sleeping outside last night?

"Didn't have enough money last night," Alec explained, unknowingly answering Ellie's unspoken question. "But with you on our team, we got enough money for… I don't know how long, but a lot of nights inside the Lodging House," he grinned proudly.

"You earned it," Ellie sighed. She had unwillingly taken responsibility for two children who probably did not need her in the first place, and now that she was sending them home she felt relief. And a pang of apprehension. They stood outside the door of the Lodging House.

"Get inside. And promise me you'll both work as hard as you did today – no more sleeping outside, okay?" It was a feeble attempt for reassurance.

Alec looked at her, confused. "Are you leaving?" The kid sure was sharp.

"I have a home, too," Ellie said. "And I've been away from it too long."

"Okay," Clue said.

Relief poured through her. That was easier than she expected.

Then, "We'll see you tomorrow!"

Ellie's shoulders slumped slightly. "Actually, I -,"

"You kids sleepin' in for the night?" came a voice from behind her.

She was once again spared from having to dump the truth on them. She turned to face her savior. Instantly, her eyes narrowed as the figure emerged from the darkness.

_The crazy man_.

He stopped in his tracks as soon as he saw her. Skittery swallowed before continuing towards the Lodging House. Truth was he had been thinking about her all day since the incident. She had saved his life, after all. When he thought he would never see her again, she reappeared in his territory, at Tibby's. Now here she was again, glaring at him as she had in each instance they had met. She had interesting eyes and – anyway, he hated her for clogging his mind. The last thing he wanted to do right now was confront the girl whom he had been thinking about when his head was as fogged as it was at the present moment. He lifted his cigarette to his lips, carefully avoiding Ellie's eyes.

"Do you know the fastest way I can get to Queens?"

She was talking to him. Dammit, so much for his invisibility act.

"Queens? Yeah." He stopped in front of her. "Why, you thinking of taking a trip?" The tone of his voice was not pleasant.

"As soon as you can tell me how to get there," Ellie replied.

Skittery's brows drew in puzzlement. "Now?"

"Yes, now."

A pause. "You can't go now," he answered.

"Why not?"

Skittery nodded toward Clue and Alec. "Better get your bunks before they run out," he told them. That got the boys running. With a flourish of bye's, they dashed into the Lodging House.

Skittery leaned against the wall of the building and faced Ellie again. She looked downright terrible. He had figured as much – she looked too soft to handle the life of a newsie. Even in her current condition, her fingernails were still clean, her clothes barely soiled and her hair still retained the faint scent of… what was it? Roses, he decided. It was refreshing, not like the candied perfumes most women wore which always left a trail a block long.

_What had she asked? Oh right._

"You can't go now because it's night."

She cast her glance downwards. "I can handle myself, thank you."

"I meant," he reached over his shoulder to stub the cigarette out on the building wall, "that there ain't no trolley to take you there now."

"Oh. Then I'll walk," Ellie said, and inwardly groaned as soon as the words were in the air. Ellie knew there was no way she could walk back to Queens, especially since her feet were throbbing and crying for rest. Nevertheless, she had already decided to ask someone else for directions. She attempted to turn away from the crazy man when he suddenly reached out and grabbed her arm. She let out a sharp gasp as pain pulsated through her arm.

Skittery frowned at her reaction, instinctively relaxing his grip though not releasing her arm. Their eyes locked for several moments, as Ellie waited for him to let go and Skittery froze as guilt settled in. So she _had_ injured herself this morning, he realized. He was hoping his eyes had played a trick on him when he glimpsed red on her shirt but even so, his conscience had been nibbling at him all day. Now it was gobbling him up.

"Come on," he said gruffly.

Ellie followed him wordlessly into the Lodging House, confused and uncertain but most of all, drained. Her fatigued body had finally overcome her stubborn mind and, though she hated to admit it, she was ready to accept any form of shelter.

"Heya Kloppman," Skittery greeted the elderly Lodging House keeper as he rummaged through his right pocket and, coming up with only lint, pulled at his left pocket. He fumbled with two coins and slapped them onto the counter as he signed his name into the ledger. Kloppman noticed Ellie and gave her a nod and a smile which she returned.

"Good luck with this one," Kloppman said to her, thumbing towards Skittery, still hunched over the counter.

Skittery looked up abruptly, tightening his lips. "She's not my girl, Klopps." Then he added, "You have that, uh… kit? She needs some bandaging or something."

Ellie was looking longingly towards the chair by the window, not catching Skittery's request. When she turned back, he stood in front of her holding a worn cardboard box. He led her to the chairs and plopped down. She was so grateful she nearly smiled at him but caught herself when he glanced up at her. Ellie dropped onto the chair and instantly melted into the seat as her body relaxed.

"Give me your arm," Skittery said.

Ellie looked at him questionably. "Why?"

His response was to reach over and pull at her shawl, revealing the blood stained sleeve underneath. He removed the lid of the box and placed both on the floor, pulling out a roll of bandage. Ellie straightened and stretched out her hand expectantly.

"I'll do it," she said simply.

"I'll do it," he replied without looking up. He was unrolling the bandage.

"It's my arm. I'll do it."

"I said I'd do it."

"Don't be so stubborn."

"Get used to it."

He grasped her outstretched hand when a whistle rang throughout the room. Ellie and Skittery turned towards the sound.

Several onlookers were standing by the doorway. The whistle had come from Race who grinned at Skittery. In fact, there were a lot of grinning faces. The newsies were walking in in bunches as they had finished yet another day of selling. She recognized Jack as he pulled up a chair and pat Skittery hard on the back, all the time with the same, strangely encouraging, grin.

Ellie took the opportunity to snatch the bandage from Skittery's hand. Her action prompted a shift in attention as the grinning faces turned to her.

They were not grinning now as they focused on Ellie's injured arm. Her left sleeve bore a gaping tear. The blood dried against her skin, red-brown in color, staining her white blouse.

She sat back in her chair uncomfortably. "It - it's not as bad as it looks," she said, trying to downplay the mess exposed on her arm.

"The battle wound!" came a cry from the staircase.

Clue and Alec bounded down the steps. They stopped by her side and gazed, wide-eyed, at her bloodied arm.

"Does it hurt?" Clue asked her.

"Not much," she answered hesitantly.

Skittery stole the bandage back when her attention was on the kids. "It was my fault --," he began to confess.

"It was Blade, wasn't it?"

Skittery, surprised, looked at Mush, who stood solemnly in the middle of the group of newsboys. Mush's expressions were always readable and the one he had now was one of guilt.

"It _was_ Blade," Mush answered himself. He bent down to examine her arm. "I'm really sorry, Ellie Vivien. This… this is my fault…" Mush sputtered.

Skittery slowly put the pieces together. Ellie's gash was not an injury, it was a wound.

Mush was sure that Blade was responsible, but the rest of the newsies needed confirmation.

Jack asked, "Blade really did this to you?"

It must have been her exhausted state of mind, her confusion, and the fact that Skittery had stolen her limp arm and began to wind the fabric around it, but all Ellie could manage was a feeble shrug. A murmur of condemnation filled the lobby of the Lodging House.

If this gash was any proof, Blade had carried out what the newsies had drearily expected.

She had finally crossed the line.


	6. Reflections

_**Author's Notes:**__ Thanks to __**kaitins**__**q**__** swindler **__and__** stress **__for the feedback on the last chapter. Really, I wouldn't be sitting here trying to make the random bits and pieces in my head work if it weren't for everyone's kind words of encouragement (especially since I did put this on hiatus…). So yes, like this story's (still temporary) title, thank you!_

_**Disclaimer:**__ I do not own the movie _Newsies, _or any of the characters from it. _Disney_ laid claim to them before I had the chance. I still love ya, Disney._

- - - - - -

**Chapter Six  
****Reflections**

"_Time to go," Ellie said. She strode towards the group in what she hoped was a purposeful stride. She felt a nervous twitch in her calf. Maybe it was a little too purposeful?_

… What am I doing?

_She broke through the crowd of surprised girls. "Come on," she said to Francesca. Did Ellie just see a flicker of relief in her eyes? _Couldn't be, Francesca hates me. And I don't particularly like her. So… what am I doing? What kind of stunt am I trying to pull?

_"Who the hell are you?" the leader asked furiously._

She was tall. And she was angry. Even in the darkness, her eyes flashed an icy blue behind wisps of choppy dark hair. Her face was narrow; her thin lips were twisted into a snarl. Beneath her eyes were dark shadows which hinted at a lack of sleep and unrest, adding to her menacing façade.

But there was no turning back now, her mind registered. Her instinct commanded every nerve in her body to refrain from showing weakness.

_"This idiot's bodyguard, apparently," Ellie muttered. She did not bother to stop and look at her, seemingly unthreatened by the girl with the knife in her hands._

_In one swift motion, the leader held the knife right under Ellie's jaw._

Good god, I'm stupid. Her heart drummed inside her chest. Her mind raced at a similar pace.

_"You betta mind yer own business," she warned. Her expression changed from vicious to uncertainty; she must've been taken aback by Ellie's smile._

_"You must really like him to go through all this trouble," Ellie said softly so that only the leader could hear. She grabbed Francesca's arm and pulled her out of the circle._

Please, let this night end…

_The young man raced to Francesca's side. He was supporting Francesca, who was trying to recover from being held at knifepoint. The three turned their backs on the group and walked away, towards the narrow street._

_Ellie looked back when she heard a rush of footsteps. The group was rapidly coming towards them. The leader must have given the command. And this time, they all held weapons._

_Ellie pushed the couple forward. "Run," she said as she glanced back again. They were not far behind. "Now!"_

_The three raced through the streets, their steps reverberating through the air. In their frantic states, they took a wrong turn and got themselves lost, coming to a dead end._

_Francesca was panting. "What are we going to do?" she whispered fearfully._

I don't know… I don't -

_"You two stay here," Ellie ordered._

I'm insane.

_She dashed out of the dead end street, stopping right in the middle where the two streets crossed. _Her breaths came in short gasps; adrenaline kept her alert, made her feel lighter.

_The girls spotted her_. _Ellie ran up the street and made a left; she did not know where she was going. She skidded to a stop._

_The leader stood directly in front of her, gripping the knife in her hand. Without a moment's hesitation, she raised her body and slashed down on Ellie's left upper arm._

_Searing pain.  
_Ellie jerked awake. She blinked her eyes several times as the image of Blade slowly dispersed. Gradually, the haze lifted enough for her to become aware of the lumpy pillow underneath her head and the mattress that cushioned her body.

Where was she? Some girl's lodging house, she tried to recall. Mush and Blink had guided her here last night (much to her dismay, there was more walking). To her relief, the pair had remained relatively silent during the trip. Ellie sensed that she had jarred the newsboys when they asked about that Blade. It had struck her as odd – how exactly was that Blade associated with the newsboys? But it was not odd enough to force Ellie to inquire further. She had been focused on one thing only and that was to seek shelter for the night. Ellie could not exactly remember how she had made it into the bed in which she lay – she had been teetering collapse when the trio had entered the Lodging House.

The sky had turned a shade between purple and blue; the sun would rise soon. She was awake now, but a familiar, painful feeling still lingered. It wasn't her arm, she realized vaguely, twisting her head to the side and staring blankly. No, the dream had caused this feeling; funny how dreams can conjure revelations that a fully conscious mind can not even acknowledge. Or perhaps, refuses to acknowledge.

A heaviness had settled into her chest; a desolate apathy numbed her senses. Ellie closed her eyes and sunk deeper into the mattress.

Emptiness.

- - - - - -

The spider was either daring or just plain stupid. The insect slid down from its silken web on the overhang and froze, suspended in the air in front of her face. She blew the hair out of her eyes, reached for her back pocket and pulled out a box of matches. Lazily, she lit one match and held it under the spider, which sprung back up towards its nest. _Waste of a match_, she thought bitterly. She had wanted to watch it burn. Shifting her position on the crate on which she sat, she reached for the small knife that she always carried. It was her charm, her protection, her weapon. She lightly fingered the makeshift leather pouch that contained the blade. The sun was low on the horizon and for the seventh straight night, sleep had eluded her. Her mind had constantly been producing a whirlwind of thoughts, she had been on edge, restless and irritable, itching for some form of revenge. And just when she thought she was about to relieve that itch and find some peace, that _girl_ appeared.

That was what occupied Blade's mind now. Just thinking about the interceptor made the muscles in her body tense and her fingers to curl into a tight fist. That girl had foiled her plans of revenge against the traitor, and so mutilating her seemed to be the next obvious course of action. But something was stopping Blade. Anger was replaced by unease and a laugh escaped her lips, a sort of disbelieving scoff. The damn girl had actually left an impression on her. She had the guts to smile at her, to try to rattle her. But Blade was not fooled, because in that short encounter – in the few words that were exchanged, in the ten seconds that the girl and Blade tried to stare each other down – she knew everything about her.

"Hey, you're up early."

Blade turned her head slightly towards the voice. Beth. "Couldn't sleep."

Boastful Beth was not a particularly intimidating name unless one knew the reason for the ambiguous title. Beth was, in Blade's view, a meaty piece of work and one of the more hot-tempered members of her circle. When a guy at a small bar restaurant once flicked her the finger, Beth only did what she deemed appropriate for the situation. She cornered the bastard, cut off the guilty finger, and placed the bloody mess in a jar. She still showed it off constantly.

"We better get goin' soon," Beth said. "I don't think that old hag likes us," she said with a smirk.

The old hag, Mrs. Henderson, was the owner of the Queens Home in which the girls stayed the past several nights. Henderson was a frail-hearted woman, easily manipulated because of her nervous tendencies and thus an easy target for Blade and the girls.

"Get the rest of the girls up," Blade ordered. "You girls are goin' huntin' today."

Beth smiled. "For what?"

"For Francesca Richardson," answered Blade. "And her little friend."


End file.
